


The Inaugural Inter-Pack Pyjamas and Movies Night

by Sapphy



Series: Unbalanced 'verse [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Allison, Dark Stiles, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Stiles, McCall Pack, Movie Night, POV Sheriff Stilinski, Pack, Pack Bonding, Pack Cuddles, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Pizza, Puppy Piles, Recovery, Sleepovers, The Hale Pack - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 09:29:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3129560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphy/pseuds/Sapphy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison decides that after their ordeal Stiles and Isaac both need to feel like normal teenagers for a change. And normal teenagers spend their evenings watching movies and eating obscene amounts of pizza.</p><p> </p><p>Set directly after chapter 19 of A Real Boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Inaugural Inter-Pack Pyjamas and Movies Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wecantgiggleitsacrimescene](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wecantgiggleitsacrimescene/gifts).



> This fic is a gift for wecantgiggleitsacrimescene, who won the competition I hosted a while back. Sorry this has taken so long bb, I hope you like it!

Growing up, Stiles had never had friends. John had worried about that, worried about him, but he was always so busy, worked to exhaustion just to keep up with Teklunia’s medical bills, and there was never the time to try and actually do anything. And then Scott had arrived in town, and suddenly Stiles wasn’t alone, and John had stopped worrying.

It’s not until years later, when his son looks at him with distant fire-light reflected in his eyes, that he begins to see how stupid that was. He'd told himself that Stiles was just too odd, too loud, for the other children, that it was his ADHD that kept him from making more friends. It's only now, with the truth of what and who Stiles is ever present in his mind, that he can admit that the other children hadn't disliked Stiles. They'd been scared of him.

He remembers Stiles coming home from school blank faced and with bloody knuckles, with a letter from his teacher warning that he was in detention for the next month. When John had asked why, Stiles had said that the other boys were saying that Stiles had killed his mom, that he was a murderer, and John had marvelled at the cruelty of children and tried to comfort Stiles with ice-cream. Now he realises that that rumour wasn't borne of cruelty, but of fear, and that it wasn't comfort Stiles needed, but an outlet for his anger. Maybe if he'd realised that, Stiles wouldn't leave unconscious criminals on the steps of the police station.

But he knows, better than anyone, that what-if's solve nothing. And Stiles does have friends now, even if they're not the ones the Sherriff would have chosen. They obviously care very much about his son, and they accept him for what he is, accept his peculiarities and limitations, and don't intentionally get him into trouble, which is all a father can ask for.

(Stiles' taste in boyfriends is another matter entirely, but apart from one screaming row in the hospital room - which ended when Melissa had come in and glared them into silence - they haven't touched that subject yet, both waiting until things are more settled before they bring it up again. John has locked Stiles' bedroom window though.)

Tonight he's gracefully conceding control of the TV for what Allison described when she called to arrange it as the inaugural inter-pack pyjamas and movies night. Peter and Derek are firmly excluded (he gets the impression that Allison is about as keen on Peter and Stiles' relationship as he is) but Allison assured him that he's welcome to stay if he wants. He's planning to spend the night catching up on paperwork at the dining room table, not intruding but close enough to check that they really are just watching movies. After everything he's learnt about them, he's a little worried that they actually going to spend the time raising the dead or planning the rescue of some other kidnapped friend he doesn't know about.

But because Allison seems trust-worthy, and because he will never be able to forgive himself for the way caring for Teklunia had isolated Stiles as a child, he's filled the freezer with ice-cream and the cupboards with soda, and has offered to pay for pizza for them all.

Stiles is as nervous as if this were his first date, and John realises guilty that this is the first time (apart from Isaac's one ill-fated visit) that he's had anyone other than Scott to visit.

Stiles is wearing the red hoodie Allison bought for him with his pyjama bottoms, the first time all week that he's bothered to put on a shirt. John's signed him off from school for the week, to give him time to recover, and even with the painkillers, moving his arm is painful enough that he mostly hasn't bothered. The first time he'd come downstairs without a shirt, John realises it was the first time since Stiles was small enough to need help bathing that John's seen him shirtless, and he knows why, every scar a silent rebuke, more proof of all the ways he's failed as a father.

Allison and Scott arrive first, Scott with a jacket over the top of his pyjamas, Allison carrying hers in a pink silk pyjama case shaped like a teddy. Stiles crows with laughter when he sees it, and Allison hits him very gently and disappears to the bathroom to change.

She reappears wearing a pale blue silk camisole trimmed with lace, and matching shorts, and John looks for even a spark of interest in Stiles' eyes, but there's nothing but affection, no desire at all, and he thinks he sees why Allison feels so safe and comfortable around his strange son.

Isaac, Erica and the boy they all just call Boyd arrive together. He'd expected Erica to wear something scandalous, she'd seemed the kind to flaunt her good looks at every opportunity, but instead she's wearing a grey onesie, with wolf ears and a tail. She looks as ridiculous as people always do in onesies, but it makes everyone laugh.

They look so normal, just an ordinary group of teenagers, that John finds it almost impossible to believe that they're the same people he saw blow up a building and fight villainous werewolves only a few days earlier.

They plug Stiles' laptop into the TV, and joke about John arresting them while they find pirated copies of the films they want to watch online. Stiles insists that as the most injured he should be the one to choose the first film, but after Scott recounts watching Silence of the Lambs with Stiles when they were eleven and Stiles genuinely not understanding why Scott was so freaked out, it’s decided that Isaac should get first pick.

Isaac blushes, looking just as unsure as Stiles, and suggests a film John vaguely recognises the name of, some superhero thing that had been everywhere last year. The suggestion is hailed as a good one, and while it’s downloading, the teenagers bicker gently over which character in the film they’d be. John doesn’t understand half of what they’re saying, but it’s nice to see them so innocently happy.

“No,” Stiles is saying, “clearly Scott is Cap, and I’m Bucky. ‘Cos Scott is made of sunshine and puppies and justice, and I’m his violently unbalanced best bro.”

“I’m Tasha then,” Allison says.

“You should be Hawkeye,” Erica argues. “Anyway, I want to be Black Widow.”

“No no no,” Stiles says, his free hand waving to illustrate his point, “it’s not about who you want to be, it’s about who you are. And Allison is Natasha.”

“So who am I then?”

Stiles pretends to think about, screwing his face up in mock thought. “Thor,” he decides. “You’ve got the hair.”

Erica leans over the edge of the sofa to give him a laughing punch on the arm, and Stiles grins at her. “You gotta be nice to me, or I’ll tell Scott to steal your hammer!”

The film finishes downloading and they start it, all taking on the voices of their assigned characters. They mostly seem to know the film off by heart, and the occasional mistake in the quoting is greeted with good natured jeering.

Stiles takes the role of the villain since “Bucky isn’t in this film, and anyway me and Loki have that whole dark past/mental instability thing going on”. Isaac is assigned the Hulk, the one character John actually recognises. Despite her protestations, Erica throws herself gamely into the role of Thor, leaping to her feet when he appears to declaim his lines in the deepest voice she can do. Boyd doesn’t seem to be mind that he’s been assigned a character that almost never speaks, just cheering enthusiastically when his character, an archer, does anything especially impressive.

Half an hour in, John suddenly remembers that he actually has things to do, and can’t just spend the whole evening watching films with the kids, so he excuses himself and goes and makes a start on the paperwork that’s been piling up, smiling to himself at the laughter he can hear from the living room.

He’s made good progress, working his way methodically through the intimidating pile of papers, when Scott appears in search of pizza menus. John finds one for him, but stresses that Scott is to let him do the actual ordering, since he wants pizza for himself and Stiles must never ever know. Scott laughs but agrees, and goes back to join the laughing rabble in the living room.

It’s Isaac who gets dispatched to bring him their finalised order, and he avoids eye contact as he hands over the astonishingly long list. John, who’s getting used to feeding teenage werewolves, doesn’t even blink.

“Hey,” he says when Isaac starts to leave, “are you okay?”

Isaac looks surprised. “Yeah, why?”

“Well because you were kidnapped last week and lost a finger. It’s okay to not be okay, you know? You don’t have to pretend to be tough. I know I’d be a mess if I’d gone through what you did.”

Isaac shrugs. “It’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. And I’ve got my pack. Plus, I had Stiles with me. I was scared for him, but I knew he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me.”

John is coming to terms with who Stiles is, but it’s taking time, and it warms something in him to hear Isaac’s casual confidence in Stiles. Isaac has seen aspects of Stiles that John never has, has seen Stiles fighting for his life, and he still has complete faith in him. It’s good to know that even if he’s done a pretty piss poor job of being a father, Stiles has people around him who believe in him.

“You’re a good friend,” he says. “I’m glad Stiles had you with him.”

Isaac looks embarrassed but pleased. “I’m glad too.”

  

* * *

 

 

 

John is the one who gets up when the doorbell rings. The others all offer, but he waves them away. They’re halfway through a second film, and John is the only one not watching. Plus he ordered himself a small meat feast pizza, and he doesn’t want Stiles to see and scold him.

He pays the delivery guy (and gives him a tip for not blinking at one middle aged man collecting the absolute mountain of boxes) and takes them into the kitchen, intending to hide his own pizza before he gives the rest to the ravening hoards in his living room.

He’s just sliding the smallest box into the microwave, out of the way, when he becomes aware of another presence in the room. He turns, hands raised, prepared excuses, but Stiles doesn’t look annoyed. Instead he looks blank, like someone took an eraser and rubbed out all his feelings.

They stand, silently staring at one another, for a long moment, and then Stiles comes over and just leans on him, like his whole body is too heavy for him to support on his own.

(More and more he finds Stiles reminding him of Spider, Teklunia’s greyhound. It uses to do just this, not jumping up or demanding attention like other dogs, but just leaning on you, warm and trusting.)

John puts an arm around Stiles shoulders and just holds him, hoping his affectionate grasp manages to convey all the things he’s never been any good at saying in words.

“This is weird, having the house full of your friends,” he offers, because he knows Stiles finds changes in the status quo like this stressful.

“Very,” Stiles agrees, voice quiet. “Very very weird.”

“Good though?”

Stiles’ shoulders move under his arm, a tiny shrug.

“Last time I had a friend to stay, we got kidnapped and Isaac lost a finger. And the people who did it aren’t dead.”

“They won’t hurt you again,” John says fiercely, even though he knows he can’t promise that.

“What would you have done, if I’d killed them?” Stiles asks, so quietly John almost doesn’t hear him.

“I don’t know,” John says, because he’s trying to be more open and honest with Stiles. It’s not fair to expect honesty from him if John doesn’t return it.

“I don’t wanna kill people,” Stiles says, voice still soft. “But it’s probably going to happen one day.”

“Everyone’s entitled to defend themselves and their loved ones,” John says, for want of a better answer.

“Even broken people?” Stiles sounds almost hopeful, his face buried in John’s shoulder so he doesn’t have to make eye contact. “Even people who, who think they might enjoy killing?”

“Everyone,” John says. “You have the right to defend yourself Stiles. Your life matters.”

“I couldn’t help overhearing,” Erica’s voice says from the kitchen doorway. “Because I was eavesdropping. You’re a wolf Stiles. Just because you didn’t accept the bite doesn’t make that any less true. And we’re all dangerous. All of us might kill someone one day. Some of us have already tried. And you don’t think we’re monsters.”

“Well, Isaac is pretty scary,” Stiles says, with a small smile.

“We’re all scary,” Erica says firmly. “That’s why we’re in this teen monster club. Now, Boyd wants to watch The Dark Knight next, so you have to come and fangirl over Joker with me, okay?”

Stiles lets out a small noise that sounds suspiciously like a sob, and says, “Okay. He is the sexiest comic book character.”

“Damn straight. Except Catwoman, obviously.”

Stiles laughs. “Obviously.” He pulls out of John’s arms, turning back to give him watery smile. “Thanks dad.”

“I love ya kiddo,” John says. “No matter what.”

 

* * *

 

 

John goes to bed long before the kids do, leaving them eating ice-cream and teasing Allison for shrieking at every single jump scare in whatever horror movie they’re watching.

When he gets up the next morning, he pokes his head around Stiles’ bedroom door to check that he actually went to bed the night before, and finds Allison Scott and Stiles all crammed into the bed, Stiles sprawled out in the middle of the bed, Allison curled round him on one side, Scott on the other. They look almost comically sweet, and John can’t resist snapping a couple of photos on his phone before he goes downstairs.

In the living room he finds Erica has been given the couch, while Boyd and Isaac, like proper gentlemen, are wrapped in blankets on the floor at her feet. They’re cuddled up together like the babes in the wood, and Boyd, who apparently sleeps with his mouth open, is drooling into Isaac’s ear. John snaps a picture of them, too, thinking that he’ll get Derek’s number of Stiles later and send it to him. The guy looks like he could use a laugh.

Allison appears as he’s heating up leftover pizza for breakfast. She catches his guilty expression and smiles. “Don’t worry,” she says.”I won’t tell on you. After putting up with us making a racket and eating about forty dollars worth of pizza, I think you’ve earned some cholesterol.”

He grins at her. He doesn’t know her well, but he likes Allison. She obviously loves Stiles very much, and looks out for him, and that makes her good people in John’s book.

“So you had a nice time then?” he asks.

She smiles. “I could have done without Erica and Stiles’ running commentary on how sexy the bad guys in all the movies are,” she says with a smile. “But yeah. I think for my first proper sleepover, this was definitely a success.”

“This was your first sleepover?” He’d just assumed Allison, pretty and kind as she was, had been popular at her previous school.

“I went to one when I was eleven, but I didn’t really know the girl. She just invited all the girls in her class,” Allison says with a shrug. “I never stayed at any school longer than a year. None of us have ever had many friends, or happy childhoods.”

“I didn’t know.” He’d known about Scott’s parents of course, and he’d seen the basement of Isaac’s house, but he hadn’t realised that they were all, in their own way, just as lonely as Stiles.

“It’s okay,” Allison says, seeing his expression. “We’ve got each other now. We’ve got pack and friends. Things are better now.”

John knows now he was wrong to stop worrying about Stiles when Scott appeared all those years ago, but thinking of the scene last night, laughing happy faces, a group of extraordinary young people getting to just be teenagers, he thinks that maybe now he really can stop worrying about Stiles. (He’s not going too, because he’s a dad and worrying is his job, but he could if he wanted too.)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are the stuff that dreams is made of.


End file.
